


five times gerard dislodged himself, or, a history in reverse

by softlyforgotten



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-22
Updated: 2009-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyforgotten/pseuds/softlyforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time is hard to keep track of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times gerard dislodged himself, or, a history in reverse

**5.** gerard flickers into existence and frank looks up, eyes quiet, nonplussed. “shush,” he says, “you’ll wake yourself up.”

gerard laughs hoarsely and moves closer, kisses frank a little bit desperately, hands fisting in frank’s shirt. frank hums back, pleased, and gerard’s just tugging frank’s top off, thinking _yes, maybe, this time, if i’m fast_ when he feels that old, familiar twang around his ribcage. he pulls away and hisses “god _damnit_ ,” because his life seriously sucks sometimes, and frank laughs quietly because he’s an asshole with no compassion. “ _frank_ ,” gerard whines, and then his heart jumps oddly, ow, fuck, he hates this part.

“hey, don’t worry,” frank says, and he pushes the hair away from gerard’s face. “it’s not much longer, now, i’m gonna stop being stupid soon, i think.”

“think?”

“well, you’re kind of vague about this time, later, so you’ve only got yourself to blame, man. but i’m fairly sure – well, you – fuck it, this doesn’t get any less confusing – future-you says you’re fairly sure it happens – dude, i don’t know whether i should tell you?”

“frank,” gerard says, and he moves forward, rests his forehead against frank’s. “i have – it sucks so much, i, i _want_ —”

“i know,” frank says simply, and then he shrugs. “what the hell, hey? it happens tomorrow, gerard. seriously, give me that cigarette when i ask.”

and gerard’s gone.

 

 **1.** gerard’s exhausted and messed-up and lonely, and he’s halfway through mikey’s hidden stash of tequila when suddenly his heart clutches painfully and his lungs are all tight. he _can’t draw breath_ , and he’s still struggling with it when he realises that some part of him doesn’t actually need to breathe, he doesn’t–

and then he’s in a clean, white room, staring at a slightly cleaner, still kind of smelly version of himself with short, platinum white hair.

himself? his other self? different!gerard? holds his hands up and says, warningly, “stay calm. this is the first time.”

in the next ten minutes, before he flicks back to his present, gerard does many things. none of these include staying calm.

 

 **2.** he’s sober, the next time, which probably helps.

he catches himself making out with the guitarist from pencey prep, which probably doesn’t.

it is strikingly similar to last time, in that his future self spends most of the time trying to calm him down. it is not in that the aforementioned tiny guitarist sits in the corner pissing himself laughing.

“this is frank,” his older self says, a little lamely when gerard’s stopped waving his hands around (to be honest, he’s not quite sure what he’s so worried about – tiny guitarist is really hot, actually, but. this is too much like homemade porn! also the bit where he’s fairly sure that this is not how normal people find out about future… boyfriends? make-out buddies? _seriously_.) and making high-pitched noises. “you’re going to play in a band with him.”

“it’s going to be _awesome_ ,” frank says, and smiles huge and bright, and gerard’s not sure if that’s why his heart stops, or if it’s because at that moment he slides back into his real time.

 

 **3.** time passes, and gerard finally tells mikey _yeah, man, let’s do it_. there’s ray and otter and gigs, there’s being afraid, and being drunk, and being ridiculously excited about things for the first time in a long while.

and then there’s frank (and a record, and the first tour, but gerard still wants to leave the period there). and then there’s more time.

gerard recognises the sensation, though, when he’s drifting off to sleep in their van, with his head butting against mikey’s bony side and frank dribbling on his leg in his sleep. it shocks him, anyway, and he jolts forward when he arrives in the future and the sunglasses he swiped off frank fall off.

he’s backstage, and the arena out there is huge, and he can see thousands and thousands of people screaming. his band is trooping off, and he shrinks back in the shadows, but mikey looks at him with an exasperated, fond look (sans glasses, which gives gerard a bit of a start) and ray holds up a hand in greeting. there’s a blonde guy, who gerard doesn’t recognise, and he looks at gerard a little bit curious but not quite surprised, and then there’s frank, with hair that curls down a bit longer than he’s used to, brushing up against his shoulders.

gerard’s stomach twitches. he’s used to it, by now. every now and then he remembers seeing his future self kissing frank and he wonders, but he’s not sure what it means, so he tries not to think about it too much. frank spots him, though, and beams, makes a beeline for him and snatches at his collar, kisses him hard and welcoming. frank’s all sweaty, still a little bit out of breath, and gerard kisses back because he’s not an idiot, and because this is _frank_ , and gerard has the stupidest crush in the history of stupid crushes.

“wait,” he says, though, when they break apart and frank grins at him, says, “hi.”

“hi,” gerard echoes, and then frowns. “so are you and me, like, together, um, now?” he doesn’t mean to hold his breath, but he does it kind of by accident.

frank reaches out and touches the corner of gerard’s mouth, kind of sheepishly. “yeah,” he says. “but, like – well, in the future, in my now, you say i shouldn’t tell you to go for it? i mean, don’t do anything, gerard, just wait a while longer. i’m an idiot, but i kind of work up the nerve to kiss you, you know, eventually. in – in the future, you say it has to happen like that.”

“okay,” gerard says, and his face must look a little disappointed because frank laughs, steps up and gives him a quick hug.

(frank steps back, and his face kind of falls a little bit. “god,” he says, “you smell like beer.” out of the corner of his eye, gerard sees the older version of him catch his eye, wave.)

gerard opens his mouth to say _uh_ , but his pulse speeds up and suddenly he’s back, on the highway.

 

 **4.** “thank _god_ ,” gerard says when he rolls over on his uncomfortable hotel bed and finds himself in the future, sandwiched between his older self and frank. “jesus, thank fucking – i’m going crazy, frank, you gotta do something fucking soon or i’m going to—” and he shuts up, kisses a giggling frank into silence, while his older self sighs loudly and makes huffy Stop Ignoring Me noises behind him. that sets frank off again, and soon gerard has to stop because it’s hard and also a bit creepy to keep trying to kiss someone when they’re busy cracking up laughing.

“ _seriously_ ,” gerard says, and rolls away, glares at frank. “it’s too fucking hard, knowing that one day i’m gonna be able to – _frank_ , when are you going to _do_ something?”

“he can’t tell you yet,” gerard’s older self tells him, and then pauses thoughtfully. “can’t tell me yet? one of these days we should iron out the grammar of these things.”

“ _jesus_ ,” gerard says, “no wonder mikey bitches at me, i’m a fucking pain in the ass. look, older self, it’s not fucking fair that you get frank and i don’t—”

frank makes a high pitched noise and chokes on his mouthful of pillow. “sorry,” he giggles when gerard glares at him. “sorry, it’s so weird seeing you being petulant with yourself, sorry.”

“well, glad you’re amused,” gerard says snippily. “i live to make you happy.”

his older self rolls over and smiles stupidly in the pillow. gerard finds it very hard to be pleased and ready for his future when all he wants to do is smack his future self and say something along the lines of ‘you lucky, lucky motherfucker’.

“chill, man,” older gerard says. “you shouldn’t be mean to me, this is the last time we talk to each other like this.”

gerard stares at him. “you mean – this is the last time?” he’s not sure whether he’s disappointed or not. frank presses up along his back and hums warmly into his neck, and gerard can’t help the little sad face he makes.

“no, there’s one more. but i was asleep then. i only talked to frank then.”

gerard nods. he feels like he should say something interesting or maybe profound because let’s face it, how often does this happen? all he can manage, though, is “this grammar thing is really weird.” he figures his older self will understand.

they lie there, the three of them, in silence for a little while, and older gerard magnanimously shifts a little to the side, so that gerard can lie still and content with frank warm against his back. finally, he says, “i think i’m about to disappear again.”

frank tugs at him until he rolls over, and kisses him softly. “bye.” he’s quiet for a moment, and then adds, “you don’t smell so bad, today.”

“it’s been seven months,” gerard says, quietly, “since i stopped.”

“good boy,” frank says, and kisses the corner of his mouth with a kind of lopsided smile. and then gerard’s gone, back to where his present is waiting for him.


End file.
